My shoulders hunch forward, and I grip the pencil tighter.
‘Tell anyone, and I’ll slit your neck and fuck your throat as you bleed out,’ JJ growls in my ear as he thrusts into me again, the sharp burning pain deep inside me unbearable.
Twigs and rocks dig into my back and head as I stare up at the night sky while tears roll into my hairline.
He moves faster, and his breath hits my neck as he threatens, ‘Then I’ll go to your house and do the same with your mother and aunt. Got it?’
Somehow, I manage to nod while he grunts as he orgasms. When he pulls out of me, the burn is sharp, and a warm sticky substance trickles from me.
Just as I take hold of my shirt to pull it down, Wayne shakes his head as he unbuckles his belt. ‘My turn to fuck your pretty cunt. Keep those perky tits on display for me.’
The horror, disgust, and shame shudder through my body as the memory of the worst four hours of my life flashes through my mind.
“Jenna?” Cassia quickly stands up and comes around the side of the island to place her arm around my shoulders.
It’s only then I realize I’m gasping for air and a tear has escaped, rolling down my cheek.
She brings her other hand to the side of my head and presses my cheek to her chest. “Shh…It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
I can’t remember the last time anyone hugged me. Probably the day I said goodbye to Mom and Aunt Sherrie.
Mr. Oliveira held me when he carried me, but that wasn’t a hug.
Needing the comfort Cassia is giving me, I lift my arms and wrap them around her.
She smells like expensive flowers, and as I focus on slowing my breaths, her scent envelops me.
“Oh, I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I asked. I didn’t mean to trigger you,” she coos, and it makes me feel better.
When I’ve calmed down, she pulls away and uses her thumb to brush away the wet streak the tear left.
She takes a seat right beside me, then takes hold of my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Better?”
I nod, still clutching the pencil. Reaching for the notepad, I quickly write.
I’m sorry.
She shakes her head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
I hesitate, then write some more.
Thank you for the hug.
Her lips curve up. “I love hugging, so if you ever need one, just say the word.”
God, she’s trying so hard with me, and in some ways, she reminds me of Mr. Oliveira. Maybe it’s because they’re the only two people who’ve put in any kind of effort with me?
I think for a moment, then scribble the words down before I change my mind.
Something bad happened in my past. I can’t talk about it. Since then, I haven’t spoken much, and it’s kind of become a habit.
As Cassia reads, I continue to write.
Are you sure you want to be friends with me? I’m shy and stupidly awkward. We’re nothing alike.
A chuckle bubbles over her lips. “Opposites attract.” Her eyes soften on me, then she admits, “Maybe I see a kindred spirit in you, Jenna. I’ve been through something traumatic as well and also don’t like to talk about it, so I understand.”
I exhale a relieved breath.
